


A Worrying Return

by Sarah_WatsonHolmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_WatsonHolmes/pseuds/Sarah_WatsonHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock arrests another criminal and saves Londons streets from having another murderer on them, however this criminal was given one last mission. To kill someone Sherlock holds dear. But he might a two birds one stone deal here and Sherlock might loose more than he was supose to.  (Fluffy ending I sware)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Worrying Return

"He killed him case solved," Sherlock said walking into the lab.

"Sherlock you're probab-"

"No I know I'm right Lestrade,"

"Okay fine, say you're right, there's hardly any evidence to prosecute him, we can't say for sure he murdered the victim,"

"But I'm certain, just arrest him already and get him off the streets where he can't hurt anyone anymore," Sherlock paced up and down the room, frustrated, but John could swear he saw slight hints of worry in the detectives eyes, to add Sherlock glanced at John every now and then making the doctor feel uncomfortable.

"Do you think he'll confess?" added John.

"Don't be stupid John of course he won't confess, he probably wants us in the same room as him," Sherlock snapped, okay now John knew something wasn't right with the usually calm detective, but he didn't question it.

"Well John has the only good idea I've heard so far, if you get a confession from him, I'll let you choose any case no matter how bizarre it is or something," Lestrade said.

"Really?" Sherlock looked to Lestrade completely forgetting how nervous and uptight he was.

"So if I solve this case I could have the case where the victims eyes were pulled out and then placed on their head and the burnt fingers?" Lestrade sighed.

"Very well Sherlock," Sherlock smiled slightly, it was a good offer. Then his face became serious again, if they did a confession from him, then he most defiantly would be in prison and rot there for the rest of the their life, he looked to John, 'he has to stay close, things could turn sour very quickly if I'm no careful,' Sherlock said to himself.

"Come on john, lets go and get this confession from him," John followed quickly behind, looking at Sherlock with concern.

"What's with being so serious Sherlock?"

"I'm not,"

"You are, you've just snapped at me and Lestrade God knows how many times, you seem on edge,"

"Well I'm not I'm fine, lets just get this over and done with," Sherlock didn't look to John as he walked into the interrogation room. John saw the suspect for the first time, Sherlock had ran after him apparently recognising his features or something, which was surprising considering the case wasn't that old and they hardly had any witnesses. To John this whole case felt like there was a hidden agenda to it and Sherlock knew exactly what it was. The doctor looked to the man, who looked straight back at him. The suspect or as Sherlock says 'murderer' didn't look like one. A tall male. ,maybe as tall as Sherlock, well built, yes they could probably strangle a person, they wore a black suit and tie, they sat up straight and seemed over all clueless as to why he was here. John saw the suit jacket seemed to be the same as Sherlock, in fact everything the man wore was identical to Sherlocks, he had picked up some of the detectives traits when he 'died'. John sat down opposite the 'so called killer' and Sherlock did the same almost glaring at the killer. At first Sherlock almost seemed excited to get this guy behind bars thinking this was going to be easy, but john saw his attitude change very quickly, like someone had just insulted his intelligence or something like that. No matter what Sherlock said he just wouldn't confess. Nothing would make him budge. It was only a matter of time before John saw Sherlock getting frustrated.

"Okay Sherlock, we're taking a break," John stood up and literally dragged Sherlock out of the room.

"What was that for?" Sherlock snapped at John pulling his arm away from his grasp.

"You we're getting annoyed, making one or two threats, you're not allowed to make threats Sherlock, I'm pretty certain about that,"

"Then how in the world do you expect us to catch him?"

"I don't know Sherlock you're the so called 'genius' here as you clearly pointed out when we were with Lestrade," john had pretty much lost his cool with the man in front of him.

"I was working it out and you dragged me out here!"

"Oh so now you're raising your voice to me, real mature Sherlock. He's getting under your skin, take a break, I'll go in there or something," Sherlock's head snapped up, ' No he can't go in there'. He held Johns arms tightly.

"John you can't go in there on your own," John blinked realising how Sherlock had become disturbingly quiet at that comment.

"what? Why?"

"Because…you just can't okay. End of discussion,"

"So he won't be on his own I'll go in with him, and keep it down in future Sherlock alright other people are trying to work in this place too you know," Lestrade said walking round the corner.

"I need to be in there Lestrade," Sherlock persisted.

"No you're not Sherlock, now stay here," Lestrade walked back into the room and john followed close behind, looking to Sherlock with a slightly worried expression, things were defiantly off in Scotland Yard at the moment. Sherlock paced in front of the door .

"…this is bad. John can't be left alone with him," he raked his hand through hair clearly distressed trying to find a solution to the matter.

"Right Mr Kayton, do you k now why you're in here?" Lestrade asked.

"I've apparently killed someone," his eyes were completely focused on John, not looking to Lestrade at all. Lestrade kept asking questions and was rewarded with very little to go by to get this man prosecuted. John tried to ignore the suspect was staring at him for the whole duration of the interrogation so far, it was a good half an hour later before Lestrade was on the verge of giving up and sending Mr Keyton home.

"You're Mr Watson right?" he asked.

"Erm yes that's me,"

"You work with Sherlock Holmes?"

"That's correct,"

"So you have a scar on your shoulder," John straightened up his posture, coughing slightly looking to the suspect now wary of him. "Tell me doctor, how much damage is done to a person if they are shot at close range?" Lestrade looked to John, they looked a little uneasy at how he knew about Johns scar, but they remained calm and Lestrade nodded giving permission for john to answer.

"It depends on where they're shot,"

"Okay so if I said oh I don't know…the head,"

"Again that depends on what angle the bullet hits the skull, overall not good,"

"Shall we test that?" in a quick movement the suspect lifted the gun and pointed it to Lestrade and fired, Lestrade fell back onto the floor, motionless.

"Gregg!" John stood up.

"Don't move Mr Watson,"

John stayed where he was looking to the inspector, not a huge amount of blood, good. 'The Bullet's in the wall, it could have skimmed his head' the doctor saw him breathing slowly. 'Thank God he's still alive,' John looked to Keyton just as he heard the door being kicked.

"John the door's locked The suspect! He worked for Moriarty!" Sherlock shouted, still kicking at the door.

John looked to the suspect now showing slight hints of fear as the gun now pointed at him.

"Mr Holmes was right Mr Watson, my job is to kill you if Sherlock Holmes was to live, I'm completing that job, he may be dead Mr Watson but he still has people loyal to him, just like my friend outside,"

He smiled, John had a very bad feeling, he wasn't expecting Mr Keyton to unload the gun and throw it to the side along with the ammunition. He lunged at John trying to get to his throat. At first the ex-army Doctor was able to hold him off making a few punches contact here and there, but he was shorter and overall weaker than the man in front of him. He got knocked to the ground and hands clamped tightly around his neck. Oxygen suddenly became scarce, his neck starting to swell up. He couldn't shout for help, it wouldn't do much good anyway, he had to focus on trying to breathe again, but the grip around his neck got tighter and John gagged loudly.

"John!" Sherlock continued slamming his body into the door desperately trying to get it to open, luckily it was paying off as he felt it giving way slightly. 'Come on, just a little more'.

"You're going to be dead before he gets in here Mr Watson," his hands tightens around Johns neck making air getting to Johns lungs non-existent anymore. Sherlock tried desperately at this point to get the door open, he was almost there when he heard something terrible. A gun shot.

"John! No!" Sherlock panicked and pushed the door one last time and it gave way. He heard loud breathless coughing and saw John under the diseased body of Mr Keyton, he realised the doctor was being strangled somewhat . He pushed the body away from John and practically cradled Jonhs upper body in his arms almost not believing he was still alive.

"I thought you got…" Sherlock couldn't even finish his sentence , he was experiencing fear for the first time in a long time.

John didn't reply, he couldn'y really speak he was gasping so much for air, he knew he would pass out at some point, he felt odd though. Panicky, on edge, he only feels like this when he's about to have a panic attack, he had to calm down, but how. He looked over to Lestrade who was supporting himself against the wall the gun now on the floor. His forehead was covered in blood, thankfully John was right, the bullet did skim his skull, Sherlock saw where John was looking and looked to Lestrade also.

"Thank-you," Lestrade nods and looked to John, even Lestrade could notice how pale the doctor had been but he was too delirious to point it out, soon he closed his eyes passing out, he knew the medics would be with him shortly.

"John are you okay?" Sherlock asked shakily. John didn't want to worry Sherlock, in truth he didn't think Sherlock would care much about him having a minor panic attack. He nodded in reply not saying a word as he was still coughing and his throat 'hurt like hell'.

"John I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner, there was a policeman outside who was in on it and locked the door, I wasn't paying attention, if I did I would have found out they wanted you in there without me, I was going to go after him, but getting in here was my priority," Sherlock looked to John and realised he was pale, very pale. To add, his eyes were almost darting around the room. "John…are you okay?" he didn't reply instead his eyes just stared into nothing, his hand clutching the bloody shirt above his scar. "No no no, John you can't leave, stay focused yeah?" Sherlock knew what John was going through right now, the gun fire, dead body, the way he's paled and the fact he's starring into nothing just proved it. He knew John was going to have a panic attack, no, he was already having one. "John stay with me alright? You're in Scotland Yard, with me, Sherlock, you're in my arms, you're fine," Sherlock held the doctor closer trying to comfort him in any way possible. "You're going to be just fine, you're stronger than this John," any attempts Sherlock did to help John failed, all he could do was get him out of there and into an area less chaotic.

A Few agonising minutes past before john finally came back to reality. He couldn't explain it but he saw sand turn into carpet, even a solider turn into a tall plant in the corner of the room, that's when he realised the panic attack was a lot worse than he first thought. The doctor looked around finding himself on a couch in the canteen area of Scotland Yard not far from the interrogation room. Then his eyes fell to his hand, someone else was holding it. He followed the arm up to the face or rather, back of the head. He saw dark curls, only one person he knew had those. ' Sherlock'. Sherlock was talking to Lestrade who was situated on a chair with a white bandage over his head, john thought Lestrade would refuse to go to the hospital, he looked in good shape though. He heard them talking about a police officer getting away or something.

"He's awake Sherlock," Lestrade nodded to John and he felt the comforting hand leave his. He hid the fact that he was upset at the loss of contact from the detective.

"You okay?" Sherlocks voice was quiet with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine, what about you?"

"What me? Yes I'm fine, I'm always fine, I'm glad you're okay," Sherlock sighed relieved.

"You should have told me told me about him,"

"I didn't want you to worry,"

"Worry!?" John sat up looking straight at Sherlock annoyed. "The assassin that was going to kill me three and a half years ago tried to kill me again today! And you thought I shouldn't know have known about him!"

"Look I'm sorry alright! I didn't expect him to still be after you and that I wouldn't be allowed in the room with you,"

"I'm going to leave," Lestrade quickly walked away probably guessing an argument would occur.

"I can't believe you Sherlock! You knew I was in danger and said nothing! It's as if you like me being bait! God you really don't have any emotion at all!" John stood up quickly wanting to get away from Sherlock, but he completely forgot he was recovering from a panic attack and lost his balance and fell.

"John!" Sherlock quickly grabbed hold of him, keeping him up right.

"Let go of me!" John pushed Sherlock away and almost fell again if Sherlock hadn't caught him for a second time.

"John please just sit down okay? I don't want you to get hurt," Sherlock helped John sit down.

"Like you care about me," Johns reply was quick and cold.

"Look I do care about you alright, look at the amount of times you could have died and I saved your life! Lets pick one! Oh I don't know my fall from St Barts!" John winced at Sherlocks raised voice and the fact it was bringing back dark memories.

"…please stop…" John whispered, but Sherlock didn't hear him.

"There were assassins, one of them had a gun pointed to your head! I needed to jump to save your life! I was crying John! Because I never thought I'd see you again!"

Sherlock pursed his lips, he'd just lashed out at John when he should have been comforting him, to add, he'd now involved his 'fall' into the conversation, they both wanted to forget that day. He lowered his head, disappointed in himself. There was a silence between them. Arguments were rarely this bad between them, but John was right, Sherlock should have him about the assassins maybe then none of this would have happened. The detectives eyes fell to Johns hand that was shaking slightly, fearful that the doctor might have another panic attack and Sherlock knowing he couldn't help at all, he moved his hand slowly on top of the doctors. His fingers went in-between the doctors and he rested them there knowing John would probably push it away. On the other hand John looked to Sherlocks hand, his brain took its time realizing the detectives hand really was there. The contact was comforting just like before, John turned his hand around and slowly intertwined them both together. He looked to Sherlock who couldn't believe what John had just done. They stared at each other for a few seconds before they laughed quietly, like the argument a moment ago never happened at all. Both men realized a question that had gone through their heads many times had just been answered in one single movement. 'Does he like me back?' The laughter stopped and they stared at each other once again this time, they didn't stay there, they lent in. So in the middle of Scotland Yard in bright day light, completely alone, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson shared their first kiss together.


End file.
